


to a waking dawn

by whiskerprince



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Chaebol au, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Issues, M/M, binsung don't know how to buy groceries, brief experience with drag, do rich people have rights?, jisung and changbin want to piss off their overbearing family members, kingdom is referenced, no but we sure as hell like to read and write about them, rated m for implied sexy times and adult topics of conversation, rich boyz au, vacation in busan, what better way than going on a date with a man?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 06:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17637260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskerprince/pseuds/whiskerprince
Summary: "Sorry," the stranger says, smiling and leaning across the table. "Is this seat taken?"Changbin has endured trials, but no trial could have prepared him for Han Jisung.





	to a waking dawn

**Author's Note:**

> sofia said that if i posted A Binsung Fic i "shall be offered lands, a castle, and a royal title in binsung nation" so naturally i had to 
> 
> hope it lives up to the hype

 

Men, especially powerful men, are made to endure a great number of trials for the betterment of their family. At least that's what Changbin has been told his whole life. Except in Changbin's case, 'family' is most likely referring to Seo Cosmetics, the family _company_ , and seeing as he was often told this by his sister as she applied lipstick in the mirror, he doubts the 'men' in that motto are meant to be heroic in any way. More like packhorses and loyal pawns.

Or maybe it's just that the gene for a cutthroat and ambitious nature skipped him and went straight to his sister.

In any case, she's right. There's no doubt that Seo Minhee is the favored child, the keeper of the inheritance, the CEO-in-training. She has a great many more duties than Changbin does and all the snares—legal or otherwise—that accompany a high-power position, but she takes them on with a thin-lipped smile and a neatly pressed pantsuit and pair of heels from Milan. Changbin grimaces at routine paperwork and still doesn't know how to tie a tie.

Nevertheless, he knows how to bow his head and be an obedient child. No point in breaking out of the family business to fumble blindly around in the world when he has a lifetime position as executive assistant manager in their advertising department, spinning idly in a rolling chair, office on the 77th floor and overlooking the center of Gangnam. He pretends to pay attention at meetings and signs whatever the department manager puts on his desk. Goes home, goes to sleep up, wakes up, does it all over again.

Changbin endures industry politics and screaming matches that echo down the halls of the penthouse he shares with Minhee. He endures the tie that stifles him at work and the endless parties, meetings, conferences, coffee breaks, brunch dates, banquets, and paperwork that accompany it. He even endures getting stood up by his own kin at a dinner date _she_ arranged to scold _him_ about not doing enough for the 'family.' But evidently, Changbin's mutinous indifference to business isn't worth even two hours at their (her) favorite restaurant. Changbin endures.

He finally picks up his knife and fork to cut into the pear-filled tortellini drizzled in a thick, creamy sauce when suddenly, the chair across from him is occupied.

"Sorry," the stranger says, smiling and leaning across the table. "Is this seat taken?"

Changbin has endured trials, but no trial could have prepared him for Han Jisung.

 

\---XXXX---

 

Minhee drags a comb through his hair one last time and smooths the lapels of his suit. Their eyes meet in the mirror. Minhee's eyes are done fierce but simple, a palette she designed herself and styled by her personal friend, one of _the_ Hyuna's make-up artists. Changbin himself is wearing a little liner and eyeshadow, his skin of course covered up and just a touch of lip balm. Minhee picked his earrings and his father sent him the suit two New Years ago. Minhee's perfectly manicured nails light atop Changbin's shoulders.

"You look presentable," Minhee says.

"Only because of you, noona," Changbin says.

"Don't embarrass me," Minhee says.

"Of course not, noona," Changbin says quietly. "I would never."

 

\---XXXX---

 

"Is this seat taken?" asks a young thing with dark hair and dark eyes, dressed in all black and rebelliously business casual. The top button of his shirt is undone and Changbin gets an eyeful of tan skin swooping into the dip of his clavicle. He's wearing a half-smile and his just-slightly-crooked front teeth clash with the clinically clean white of his enamel.

Changbin takes a moment to daydream about the comical face Minhee would make if she showed up late only to find her seat taken and Changbin locked in conversation with this stranger. Not that she'd ever been late in her life—not even to her own birth—nor that she would care to show up to _anything_ an hour late, but the thought is amusing nonetheless. It's not like Changbin is waiting for some spectacular company.

"It's not," Changbin says.

"Oh, great," the young man says. "Name's Jisung. Apologies for intruding on your—" he glances at Changbin, then at the untouched menu in front of him, then at Changbin again, "—date?"

"Not quite," Changbin says. "But I assure you, you're interrupting nothing. Changbin."

They shake hands and Jisung's half-smile splits into a full grin. "Oh, mysterious. I guess I’m better off not knowing, huh?"

That's fair. Changbin shrugs.

"Now, Changbin-ssi, I know we've just met..."

Changbin raises an eyebrow.

"...But I have a proposition to make you."

"Sorry," Changbin says, but he's smiling. "I don't believe my invitation of seating extends to sales pitches."

"Oh sure, sure," Jisung agrees readily, bobbing his head. "Smart man. Business man? Nah, you don't look the type."

Changbin's not sure whether to feel offended or relieved.

"Well, if you're dining at Il Terazzo, I'm sure you're no stranger to money, so I won't bother offering you anything worth a high price tag," Jisung says. "Interested?"

"Not remotely," Changbin says. "However, you're better company than empty air, so I'd like to hear you out."

"That's my boy," Jisung says. "As it so happens, my proposition is a bit of a quid pro quo type of dealio. Y'know, you pick a certain flea off of my back; I give you a handjob in the bathroom. The usual works."

Bold. Exceptionally bold. Changbin is certainly feeling something towards Jisung: be it incredulity or extreme offense, he's not sure he has time to deliberate. "It'd have to be a rather measly flea," Changbin says evenly, "to warrant such a lowball offer."

Jisung bursts out laughing. "Okay, okay. You got me there. I outta at least up it to some mouth-on-pants action. Unless you've got hand cream tucked into your jacket?"

It's almost unbelievable that Changbin left the office this evening expecting yet another nail in his coffin at dinner, and instead he's got some college boy trying to sell Changbin a round with him in the bathroom of the restaurant.

"How about we hear more about this flea of yours," Changbin offers, "and settle the price in a way that is amenable to both of us afterwards, mm?"

Jisung's lazy half-smile is back. "You the boss, boss." He gestures with the wine menu to the second level of dining. "You see that girl decked out like the Gangnam skyline?"

Changbin follows the menu upwards to a pretty young girl with her hair done up in a bun and a tight-fitting silver dress decked out in glittering white stones. She twirls one of her tresses of hair around her finger and shifts in place. Across from her, a severe-looking, fox-eyed woman in a modest deep blue dress taps her pointer finger against crossed arms. It's not exactly a complicated puzzle.

"I'm guessing that's not your sister," Changbin says wryly.

"No, but the woman across from her would be delighted to make her part of the family," Jisung says.

"I suppose you don't share her aspirations? A shame. The girl is quite pretty."

"I won't contest that. But a guy's got a lot of life to live yet. No time for tiresome ceremonies and missionary position."

Changbin eyes him. "How old did you say you were?"

"Old enough," Jisung says. "Now, do we have a deal?"

"I'm afraid I'm not quite daring enough to successfully pass as you to a stranger, let alone in front of your mother," Changbin says.

"Oh, that's not necessary," Jisung says. "I'm only in the market for a date."

Suddenly, the digs about third base in the bathroom make sense. "I suppose I should feel flattered that you chose me as your target."

"No need," Jisung says breezily. "Nothing says 'no thank you, not interested in marriage' more than a date between two men."

"I see. Throw her off the scent with a red herring?"

"Well. More or less. The herring's more of a burgundy."

"The herring sounds expensive," Changbin says. "And sex isn't exactly my type of currency."

Now it's Jisung's turn to eye him. "And here I thought I was doing you a favor."

"You mistake my solitude for loneliness," Changbin says with a tight smile, "when in fact it is a joyous occasion."

"There must be something I can offer you," Jisung says. "If your missing companion is as intolerable as mine, then perhaps we can both benefit from this arrangement."

"Not sure how I feel about lying to this particular companion," Changbin says.

"No, no—not lying, per se," Jisung says. "Haven't you ever heard of a publicity stunt?"

 

\---XXXX---

 

Changbin does not embarrass Minhee. But he does not please her, or their father. Their father eats in silence, the lines of his face hard and unyielding. He does not comment on the food, nor does he comment on Minhee's considerable progress this quarter or the merger deal she brokered. He does not comment on Changbin's lack of contribution, which is a relief, but Minhee's stinging silence and the harsh click of silverware against china tells him that perhaps a short, cutting scold from their father would have been better.

"I was mortified," Minhee says.

She waits until after dinner and dessert, after drinks and goodbyes, and after they descend to the ground floor of their father's apartment building and climb into the backseat of their car. Typical Minhee—able to hold in her anger until they're in private, so as not to shame their family by bringing private matters into the public eye.

"Nothing," she says. "You couldn't think of a single thing to report to abeonim? Not a single campaign success or a rise in sales attributed to your department? For god's sake, Byoungsoo-ssi would have been bowled over at the chance to brag about the advertising department to abeonim! And you couldn't say a single word?"

"Then perhaps you should have brought Byoungsoo-ssi to dinner instead of me," Changbin mutters. Minhee draws her lips into a thin line, letting Changbin know he's made a mistake.

"You are a leech," Minhee seethes. "Content to feed off the luxury the Seo name provides for you without showing a hint of gratitude or remorse for failing to contribute. Shameful. You're shameful, Bin-ah."

A muscle in Changbin's jaw works, but he says nothing.

Minhee exhales forcefully and shakes her head. "At least marry well. An heiress or a foreign trading partner's daughter. You could model. Bring attention to the Seo name. Even some obvious publicity stunt. Do _something_ of value for once in your life."

Changbin stares pointedly out the window, blinking rapidly.

They pull into the parking structure and Minhee sighs again. "I can't do this right now. I'll make a reservation at Il Terazzo a week from now. Don't rush to come up with some great plan to save face," she adds sarcastically. "I'll take care of it."

She gets out after that, taking the private elevator to their place. Changbin stays in the idling car for another fifteen minutes, just leaning against the cool glass and remembering how to breathe evenly again.

 

\---XXXX---

 

"A publicity stunt," Changbin repeats.

Jisung nods. "Nothing too extreme; I won't get up on the table and start humping your face or anyth—"

"Oh, then no deal," Changbin says, attempting to smother a smile.

Jisung actually stops mid-sentence, eyes wide, before he realizes Changbin is fucking with him. His 'O' shaped mouth falls into a soft, genuine smile. "Damn, Changbin-ssi," he says. "I knew you were the right man for the job."

"Well," Changbin says, "I _was_ instructed to draw attention to the company. Not sure this is exactly what she had in mind, though."

"Then, we are agreed?" Jisung asks.

Changbin stretches his arm across the table. "Let's do this thing, Jisung-ah."

Jisung takes his hand and gives it a firm shake. Then, leaning back and raising two fingers, he calls over a waiter.

 

\---XXXX---

 

Seeing as Korea is a conservative nation, and seeing as Il Terazzo is a restaurant frequented only by extravagantly wealthy couples and as a location for business endeavors, two young men at a table for two leaning into each other and laughing is sure to draw attention. But, as Changbin learns, Jisung is not one to do these things halfway. As soon as he puts in his order of _stracotto al chianti_ —substituted for Kobe beef, of course—with a special request to have it sliced at the table, he disregards the wine menu at the table and calls for the manager. Not to throw a tantrum, as Changbin briefly fears, but to order some of the most expensive _prosecco_ that isn't even on the menu—the kind that requires a manager to oversee the transaction.

Jisung pulls a black card from his inner jacket pocket and smiles primly as the manager takes it away. Changbin watches him walk to the back, feeling a little queasy at the careless expression of wealth despite having several hundred million US dollars to his own name.

"I'm not sure I'm worth all the pomp and circumstance," he says faintly.

"While I highly doubt that," Jisung says, "it's more for my own sake than yours. I have to sell this tale—" he reaches across the table to swipe at a bit of cream on the corner of Changbin's lip, "—dear." He sucks his thumb into his mouth and hums appreciatively. "That's good."

Changbin stares at him, just a little.

Jisung's entree and the wine come out at the same time, a hilarious and a bit frightening parade of waiters that draws the attention of everyone in the restaurant, beyond the shadow of a doubt. Jisung makes eye contact with his mother and date while the chef himself slices Jisung's meat onto his plate and a waitress pops the cork on the wine, spilling the bubbles into two waiting champagne glasses. Changbin watches with a neutral smile frozen on his face, as if in a dream.

Once the show is over and the manager personally thanks Jisung for his patronage, Jisung cuts into the still bleeding meat and offers Changbin the first bite.

"Oh, no," Changbin says. "I know how much that cost. I can't."

"You're my date," Jisung says gently. "Of course you can."

So Changbin does. Leans forward to delicately peel the meat off of Jisung's fork, maintaining eye contact with him as he does. The veal is comfortably warm and practically melts on his tongue. He chews carefully, savoring the taste and perfect texture of the cut.

"Is it good?" Jisung asks, smiling with his eyes.

Changbin takes a moment to chew and swallow. "Am I supposed to be thinking of this as a euphemism for something else?" he asks.

"Do you want it to be?" Jisung asks back.

Changbin smiles and looks away.

As they return to their own dishes, Changbin adds quietly, "It was fantastic."

"Then a toast," Jisung proposes. "To a most excellent date with a good man."

Changbin can drink to that. "To a most excellent date."

As if by silent agreement, they don't talk about business or personal history. The more Changbin looks at Jisung, the more familiar he seems. He's sure it'll click as to what affluent family Jisung belongs soon enough, but for the moment, Changbin is enjoying what was supposed to be a miserable night out with a perfect stranger who makes him laugh and who listens to what he has to say. If Jisung recognizes Changbin, he doesn't bring it up either.

Instead, Changbin learns of Jisung's exploits and subsequent failures in various musical instruments but his fascination and love of music. He especially loves learning about the history of rap music, loves lyrics that have sentiment in them, loves Jane Austen and learned English just so he could read the original English text. Changbin talks about photography and old movies, a similar affection for history, although his manifests as interest in the history of East Asia and subsequently, a rather guilty passion for bad historical dramas.

"Dramas? Ha!" Jisung's laugh carries across the room. "You? Forgive me, Changbin-ssi, you don't seem the type."

"I call it a guilty pleasure for a reason," Changbin grumbles, still smiling. "I do spend an inordinately large amount of time dissecting them for historical inaccuracy."

"So amusing," Jisung says. "You're a real trip."

"As are you," Changbin says. "Not to get sentimental on you, but something tells me you won't mind."

"Wow, roasting me wasn't part of the agreement," Jisung says.

"I've had a wonderful evening," Changbin says softly. "Wherever did you come from, Jisung-ah?"

"Incheon," Jisung says with a shit-eating grin. "Thanks for tolerating me, Changbin-ssi. Shall we?"

Jisung stands and offers a hand to Changbin. It's just for show, but Changbin still rolls his eyes as he takes it, allowing Jisung to pull him to his feet and link their arms. They make their way to the front, smiling past the wide eyes of other patrons and dipping their heads at the staff who served them.

"Not even going to offer to pay?" Jisung asks.

Changbin presses their shoulder together. "I'm your date, remember? Besides, I know you picked up my tab when you ordered that expensive drink."

Jisung grins and Changbin gets an excellent view of his charmingly crooked front teeth. "Guilty."

They exit Il Terazzo to a small swarm of reporters and flashing cameras, held back by restaurant security and two police officers. Changbin's isn't surprised by their presence, but a bit by the numbers of reporters and the bystanders ogling the scene. One handsome young heir is a story but two is a front page headline, he supposes. He glances at Jisung, but he's not ruffled in the slightest, facing the cameras with a satisfied smile and half-lidded eyes.

"Well," Jisung says, leaning in too close, lips flush to the shell of Changbin's ear, "there's your publicity stunt, dear."

Some of the reporters here are from major news stations. When they reach the curb in front of the valet, Changbin turns to look at Jisung properly, to try to seem him better in the light of the street.

"I know you," Changbin says softly.

A slick black limousine pulls up beside them. "Of course you do," Jisung says. "Everyone does."

"Han-ssi!" an especially shrill reporter cries out. "What is the nature of your relationship with the son of Seo Cosmetics?"

Jisung laughs. "What does it look like?" he calls back.

Changbin can't stop Jisung from leaning in, dipping his head to press a long, chaste kiss to the corner of Changbin's mouth. Long enough for every reporter there to get an excellent shot of it. And pulls back to look into Changbin's eyes. Long enough for Changbin's lips to part as he searches Jisung's eyes.

"Han Jisung?" he says softly. "As in—"

"Yes," Jisung says, opening the door to his limo. "The very same." He climbs in. "I had a wonderful evening, too, Seo Changbin-ssi." And then the door is closed and he's whisked off into the night.

Changbin's car is next, but he pauses for a long moment, staring after Han Jisung and wondering just what he's gotten himself into.

 

\---XXXX---

 

" _Han Jisung? As in Han Jisung, son of Han Jinyoung, CEO of ONE?_ "

Changbin winces and holds the phone away from his ear. On the other end, Minhee's angry exhale crackles the receiver.

He's fortunate she had to go on a business trip over the weekend and therefore did not learn of Changbin's...statement...until she was in the airport lounge, already through security and half an hour until boarding. Otherwise, he's sure she would've sped all the way back into Seoul just to wring his neck and hang him off their balcony herself. But that doesn't mean he's escaped her wrath completely.

" _Your little picnic is over every television station in Korea. Even our grandmother in the middle of fucking nowhere knows you climbed under the table and sucked the cock of the son of the biggest electronics company in Korea!_ "

"I went on a date with him," Changbin says evenly. "That hardly constitutes rumors of sex acts in public."

" _Who gives a fuck, Bin?_ " Minhee snaps. " _You sucked him; he sucked you_ — _no one cares! It's all the same in the eyes of the media! You've tarnished not only the reputation of our company_ — _which you were already quite adept at_ — _but also the reputation of Han-ssi's company and embarrassed his family. For God's sake, Bin! Is it not enough to bring regular shame upon our family? Now you have to invite this brand of shame as well?_ "

Changbin's voice goes as cold as his fingers. "Are you calling me an abomination, noona?"

" _Don't put words in my mouth_ ," Minhee says, matching ice with ice. " _No one in our family cares where you stick your dick as long as it's legal and not broadcast across 75 news channels. But the old scum who run our partners' companies and the companies of our competitors care **a lot**. I don't give a shit whether it's your God-given right to skip along with your boyfriend out in public or not. All you've done is massively inconvenience me and abeonim and everyone in an executive position in our company._"

She lets out another frustrated exhale. " _You should know better. You **both** should know better._"

"I'm sorry, noona," Changbin says. "I thought last time we talked _you_ were the one to tell me to bring attention to our family. 'Even some obvious publicity stunt,' I believe were your exact words?"

" _Out_ ," Minhee seethes. " _You have until I return to move your shit out of my apartment. I'm taking your name off the deed and informing building security you are not welcome after Sunday. Go live in some shithole until you've decided to contribute positively to our family. Or better yet: don't come back at all._ "

 

\---XXXX---

 

"Hi," Changbin says.

"Hi," Jisung says, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand, barely dressed, but still offering Changbin a smile.

"Hi," Changbin says again. "So I got kicked out."

"Oh," Jisung says. Processes the statement. And then, eyes bulging, " _Oh_."

The thing about volunteering to become the black sheep of your family is that usually there's supposed to be an exit strategy before you're kicked to the streets. A friend's couch to crash on while you get your shit together. A shitty apartment in a new city where no one knows your name. Changbin doesn't have any friends, nor does he have any idea how to divide his finances from those of his family. Awkwardly enough, he has to wait for Minhee to do that for him.

Technically, Changbin has two friends: Kim Woojin, second son of a fairly wealthy Korean travel agency, but he's studying in Germany for the next three months; and Chris Bang, Australian new money whose family owns the biggest Korean BBQ chain in Australia, but that would require moving to Australia, a country where Changbin only knows how to say "Hi," "I'm fine, thank you, and you?" and, "Where is the bathroom?" It's basically the same as having no friends, although Chris has already texted Changbin and offered up a bedroom in his family's mansion, which he appreciates.

Changbin has only one other potential out, although he has mixed feelings about pursuing it. He's caused enough trouble for him and Minhee's words still sting like an open wound despite his best efforts to ignore them.

But Changbin doesn't exactly have many choices, so after a day of solemnly packing and getting drunk off of Minhee's favorite French rosé, he calls someone who knows someone who dated a secretary who worked for ONE and has a girlfriend who knows the address to Han Jisung's apartment. Changbin doesn't bring anything with him because he doesn't want to be hopeful.

Hence why he's standing at the end of the hallway in front of Jisung's door, looking a little worse for wear and feeling the start to a particularly fierce hangover.

"Uh, well, come in," Jisung says. He steps back and Changbin follows him inside.

The apartment is spacious and open but just one level, studio style, with different areas carved into the space and no true rooms aside from what Changbin presumes is the bathroom. All the furniture is modern and expensive, as are the original paintings hanging up on the walls that are not floor-to-ceiling windows, but it's not the penthouse, three stories down from the top of the building. Changbin's pretty sure the Han family doesn't even own this building.

"...Not exactly what I expected from the son of the biggest electronics company in Korea," Changbin admits. Minhee prefers to live simpler than many of their super-rich associates, but her apartment is still fancier than this.

"That's because it's not his apartment," Jisung says, flopping ass-first across the arm of a comfy chair. "This apartment belongs to the man, Han Jisung, who just happens to share a name with the famous heir."

Changbin waits for an explanation.

"I bought this place myself," Jisung says with a sigh. "The family apartment I'm _supposed_ to live in is a multi-story penthouse, a billion rooms, yada yada, you know the deal. This is my own little hole in the wall, where I can do what I want and sprawl how I want without my mother breathing down my neck."

"Your bachelor pad," Changbin concludes.

"Something like that," Jisung says. He gestures to his couch. "Sit down, you're making me nervous."

Changbin sits down.

Jisung studies him. Changbin studies him back. Jisung is in baggy black pants with a tie at his bellybutton and a white tank top with puke stains on it. His hair is getting greasy at the roots and he's not wearing makeup. But he still has those wide, glittering eyes and charming smile and clear, tan skin.

"You know," Jisung says. "I don't usually see my dates the morning after, let alone two mornings after."

"And I don't usually make house calls to anyone," Changbin says.

Jisung swings his legs off the arm of the chair and sits up. Neither of them say anything, just look at each other. Jisung gets up off the chair and pads to Changbin, barefoot. Changbin doesn't move, not until Jisung is in front of him, knee to knee. Then he leans back against the couch and allows Jisung to climb into his lap, his legs on either side of Changbin, kneeling over him, boxing him in. Changbin looks up at Jisung, beneath the long bangs that hang in his face.

Jisung lowers himself onto Changbin, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, crotch to crotch, Jisung's not hard but Changbin is getting there, as is his migraine, pounding away in his skull to the beat of his heart—

Changbin tilts his head to meet Jisung in a kiss. Jisung is slow and warm with him, burning Changbin straight to the core with the lazy press of his lips and tongue. He makes Changbin soft and pliant without ever using his hands. Jisung kisses Changbin's lips numb, then reluctantly pulls back. They're both hard now, and it would be so easy to make this into something it isn't, something simple and quick, but Changbin doesn't say anything and neither does Jisung.

After several beats Jisung sighs quietly and pulls Changbin into a hug. Only then does Changbin move to touch Jisung, gripping his back and holding him tightly. Jisung lets Changbin squeeze him for a couple minutes like that without complaint.

"Stay with me," Jisung whispers, and Changbin nods against his shoulder.

 

\---XXXX---

 

Changbin finds that, as far as personal belongings go, he doesn't really have much. He takes his camera, his laptop, some books, a hard drive, and the entire jar of Moroccan mint tea, but other than clothes, that's all he has. Jisung is impressed they make it up to his apartment in one trip.

Jisung's couch folds out into a surprisingly comfy futon, and he's able to clear one side of his walk-in closet and a desk for Changbin. He doesn't have a teapot for loose-leaf tea though, so they both stare at the rather large jar Changbin holds in his hands with bemusement.

"We can go shopping later," Jisung suggests. "I'm sure you'll want to stock up on your own food as well."

It seems like a good idea up until they remember that technically, they're still big news. And even with hoodies and face masks, they get a fair share of curious glances and phone cameras pointed their way. What's worse is that Jisung hasn't actually been grocery shopping before, preferring to get his groceries delivered, and Changbin has always let Minhee handle it, so they both end up fumbling their way around an organic market for an hour with increasing hysteria. Eventually, Changbin grabs the first teapot he sees in Muji and Jisung grabs as many snacks and beers as he can carry from a GS25 next door and they sprint back to the safety of their car.

"Let's never do that again," Changbin says, panting.

"Agreed," Jisung says.

By the time they get home, #ONESeo is already trending on Twitter again and they have no less than 14 news articles with high quality shots of them turning over a package of beansprouts, their foreheads pressed together. Changbin can practically hear Minhee squeezing her bottle of sparkling water from all the way in Daegu.

"Well," Changbin says numbly, "if we wanted a scandal, we certainly got what we were asking for."

Jisung chews his lip and feeds Changbin a piece of candied ginger.

They spend the rest of the day in Jisung's bed under a pile of covers, nibbling at snacks and watching _Kingdom_ projected onto the roll-down screen across from the bed. It's a Netflix series that takes place in medieval Joseon Korea, which is exactly to Changbin's tastes. He suspects Jisung is pitying him up until the terrible plague threatening the country is revealed to be zombies, followed by a gory action scene that is to Jisung's taste.

They watch the entire first season non-stop, then jostle with each other at the end to get to the bathroom to pee first. Changbin wins, but Jisung just pushes past him to pee in the shower.

"You're disgusting," Changbin accuses, although the kid inside him is grossly impressed at Jisung's disregard for basic hygiene.

"I drank twice as many beers as you," Jisung throws back. "You're trying to give me a UTI."

Changbin rolls his eyes and walks back into the kitchen to pour them some water. Jisung flops back onto the bed, half-eyeing the first episode of _Good Morning Call_ that had started to autoplay. "So," he says. "Who were you trying to piss off, anyway?"

Changbin doesn't falter in pouring water, but he does swallow thickly.

"Girlfriend?" Jisung ventures. Changbin looks up to see him toying with the ring on his pinky finger. "Obviously not a very desired girlfriend. Oh, shit." He sits up. "Fiancée?"

"Sister," Changbin says, carrying both glasses to the bed. Jisung takes his and sips at it thoughtfully.

"Your sister?" He swirls the glass, rattling the ice cubes. Changbin nods. "Oh." And then he pales. " _Oh_."

"You're acquainted," Changbin deduces.

"Once, at a business conference, and only briefly," Jisung says.

"How was it?" Changbin asks.

Jisung grimaces.

Changbin laughs for the first time since talking to Minhee, then sighs. "I have to go to work tomorrow."

"Are you kidding?" Jisung says. "I got a call in the car home that night telling me if I showed my face at work for the next two weeks I lose the inheritance. Why the hell are _you_ going?"

"Noona only evicted me," Changbin says. "She didn't technically fire me. _That_ will have to be a major production. She's been dying to force me to resign for years now."

"Why didn't you?" Jisung asks.

Changbin's throat closes up. He shrugs.

Jisung seems to understand not to push. He pets Changbin's head until Changbin falls asleep in his bed.

 

\---XXXX---

 

Changbin never told Minhee where he went, but there's still a car waiting for him outside Jisung's building at the right time in the morning. Jisung sees him off all the way to the curb, walking out in a fluffy bathrobe and husky slippers. He fixes a stray hair and opens the door for Changbin to get in, then waves to him as he is spirited away.

As expected, there are hopeful paparazzi waiting outside the company building and snapping pictures of the car as it pulls into the parking garage, but also as expected, Minhee has no intention of doing this in the public eye.

None of the managers or execs will meet his eyes as he makes his way to his office, but that is made up for by the amount of ogling Changbin gets from interns and expendable employees. He wonders if Minhee will drag it out, but he's barely put his bag down when the secretary calls him to tell him Minhee is asking for him in her office.

"I've taken the liberty of having your office materials packed up already," Minhee tells him as soon as he closes the door to her office. She sits in her desk chair, back straight, and hands clasped in front of her, resting on a couple papers that can only be his official resignation.

"My accountant is opening a separate account for you," Minhee says. "You will of course be allotted your part of the inheritance and your final paycheck. You should receive a new credit card five days or so after you call the bank to let them know your new address. After that, I will close your current credit card. All the information is in this packet." She produces a fat manila envelope from a drawer and places it next to his resignation.

"All I need from you is to sign this letter of resignation I have prepared," she says. "If you take offense to anything written here, I am willing to negotiate a change in the wording."

Changbin sits down to read it. The letter is definitively inoffensive and vague. It describes a combination of significant life changes, deviation from the stated goals of the company, and gradual lack of interest in advertising as the reason for his resignation. Jisung is not mentioned in the letter, nor is anything truly personal or revealing stated. Changbin has no problem signing it.

"I hope he's worth it," Minhee spits as Changbin signs the letter, one last attempt to lash out at him.

"We're not really dating," Changbin says, because he knows she won't believe him.

"Oh, horseshit," Minhee says. "Don't try to save yourself now, Bin-ah."

"I'm not," he says, handing her the letter and standing up. He picks up the packet. "Do you need anything else from me?"

Minhee blinks rapidly at him. "No," she says finally, angrily. She expected him to fight her and all the anger she had prepared to unleash on him has nowhere to go. "My secretary has your effects. You can use the car to go back to Han-ssi's or wherever it is that you're staying."

"Okay," Changbin says.

He wants to leave it at that. He gets to the door and thinks he will. It would eat her up inside to be left on that note. It would serve her right, for kicking him out for no reason other than that he bit when he was only supposed to bark.

But Changbin thinks he has finally come to understand Minhee, so he turns around just before opening the door and says, "Thank you, noona."

He picks up his box and carries it across the office, this time privy to everyone's eyes, even his department manager's. He's alone in the elevator all the way to the carpark, and then his usual chauffeur is there, standing outside the car, waiting for him. He takes the box and packet from Changbin, but stops him when he tries to climb into the car.

"I can deliver these to Master Han's," the chauffeur says, "but I think you'd best take the front entrance, Master Seo."

Changbin blinks once and nods slowly. He heads back up the elevator to the ground floor, confused. Why would Minhee prepare a car for him and send him down there, only to humiliate him by sending him out the front door?

She wouldn't. And that's how Changbin should've known something else was in store.

People in the lobby of the building are already craning their heads to look outside before Changbin even steps out of the elevator. He tries to peer around them, but he can't see. Still, when he heads for the revolving doors, people make way for him. As soon as he steps into the sunlight, holding an arm up to see what's going on, a smile splits his face.

Jisung leans against a limousine parked right in front of their building. This one is flawless, unscratched white with gold trim and gold rims. And the Jisung leaning against the limo is dressed in a shiny gold sleeveless shirt and white slacks, gold rings on every finger and gold-rimmed sunglasses on his face. And perhaps most fantastically, he has an enormous white ostrich-feather boa slung around his neck, dragging all the way to the ground. A security guard in a tailored suit is making tentative attempts to get Jisung to move his car, but is staunchly ignored.

"Wow," Jisung says. "That was quicker than I expected. Where's your stuff, babe?"

Changbin can't help himself. He flings himself at Jisung, hugging him so tight that Jisung actually gasps for breath.

"Oof, happy to see you too, buddy," Jisung says. "But I kinda have half a chicken in my mouth so could you, like—"

Changbin lets him go, grinning. "Where the hell did you get all this shit?"

"Maybe I'm friends with some rich drag queens," Jisung says. "Or maybe I had it tucked away somewhere naughty little squatters wouldn't be able to find."

"You're the best boyfriend ever," Changbin says. Jisung winks dramatically and Changbin laughs.

"Okay, asshole," Jisung says. "Get in the car and get changed into the stuff in the bag. We're celebrating your early retirement."

"Not sure getting fired is anything to celebrate," Changbin says, still smiling.

"What are you talking about?" Jisung says innocently. "You resigned from a job you hated and now you're going to party with your sexy rich boyfriend. What's _not_ to celebrate?"

And when he puts it that way, Changbin can't find it in himself to disagree.

 

\---XXXX---

 

Jisung has been suspended from work for two weeks and Changbin has been effectively disowned, so naturally Jisung books them a private jet to Busan to spend an impromptu vacation at the beach.

Changbin isn't sure why Busan, but it turns out he's close with the kid of a hotel conglomerate who can get him a private beach house with private beach included whenever he wants. At the cost, of course, of hanging with his buddy.

Some price. Changbin expects Yang Jeongin to be either spoiled beyond belief, crazy, or an annoying kid, but it turns out that Jeongin is a polite first year at university interested in going into real estate and starting an adjacent company to his father's, letting his older brother take the wheel on the hotel business. He's a good swimmer and a decent cook and turns down alcohol when Changbin offers it to him. Changbin likes him immediately.

They are also joined by a mutual friend, Hwang Hyunjin, a model and actor who Changbin had actually met a couple times when he starred in their commercials. He was bummed to hear Changbin left the company since he was so fond of their cosmetics, but enthusiastic to hear that Changbin was dating one of his best friends.

Over the two weeks in Busan, Changbin experiences what he can confidently call friendship. From volleyball games to noraebang and barbecue disasters to Brazilian waxes, he spends two weeks living for what might be the first time in his life. He and Jeongin wake up early to do the morning crossword together over cups of mint tea. Changbin naps in the shade of the porch on a pile of futons with Hyunjin wrapped around him, breathing lightly against his neck. And he falls asleep at night in the same bed as Jisung, only their pinkies touching, but feeling safe and loved by everyone under the same roof as him.

"Can I ask you something?" Jisung asks, three nights before they are to return to Seoul, after Jeongin and Hyunjin have taken the car into town to pick up snacks. Changbin and Jisung are pressed together in a hammock, Changbin's bare, sandy foot sticking out to rock them against the porch railing.

"Mm-hmm," Changbin says.

"Why did Minhee-ssi stand you up that one night?"

Ah.

"It's not a happy story," Changbin says. But it's still one Jisung deserves to hear, if he asks for it. "Do you still want to hear it?"

Jisung nods.

"Noona was born seven years before me," Changbin says. "My mother was still young, though. Minhee very badly wanted a little sibling, my mom very badly wanted a baby, and my father very badly wanted a son. I was the solution to that."

Changbin sighs. "I was supposed to be."

"The pregnancy was fine, but there was a complication when my mother was giving birth. The surgeons had to perform an emergency C-section and my mother got an infection following the surgery that didn't heal properly and she died from it a month after I was born."

"Hyung," Jisung says softly.

"I never knew her, so I couldn't miss her," Changbin says. "But abeonim and noona missed her terribly. Abeonim sued the hospital for a lot of money and it helped him build our company into what it is today, but he never really recovered. He loved her so much. So did noona."

Changbin shifts in place. "I think noona felt it was her responsibility to ensure that the company succeeded, since my father became more distant with everyone. She put the pressure to succeed him on herself, and as if to make up for not having any parents in her life, she became this harsh, unyielding rock."

"She didn't—she doesn't blame you, does she?" Jisung asks quietly.

Changbin shakes his head. "No. But to her, I think in a way the company represents our mother. And our happy family. If our family can't be happy and whole, then at least she'll make the company successful and something we can all be proud of. Something our mother would be proud of."

"That's why you stayed," Jisung says. "Even though you hated it."

"Yeah," Changbin says. "I love noona so much. I hate our company, but it's all she has. Keeping what's left of our family together is all she has. She can't understand that I don't feel the same way. It's impossible to her that I don't want to work for our company. So she thinks I'm slacking and betraying the family, and that's why she's rough with me. But if me being there makes her happy, even if the work is terrible, even if she screams at me, I'll stay there. I'll do anything I can."

Jisung is quiet for a moment. Then he wraps his arms around Changbin and presses his face into his shoulder. Changbin hears a wet sniff a few moments later.

"Yah," Changbin teases. "What're you crying over, Sungie?"

"You're so awesome," Jisung says. "Just like, the coolest, most awesome person I've ever met. I'm so glad I asked you on that fake date. My life wouldn't be half as cool if you weren't in it."

"I think that's a bit of an exaggeration."

Jisung kicks him in the shin. "Shut up," he says through a stuffy nose. "Let me snot all over you and tell you what a great person you are. I don't think you get to hear it enough."

"Alright."

They're silent after that, though, lulled by Changbin's rocking and the roll of waves onto the shore. Jeongin and Hyunjin return fifteen minutes later, having settled for convenience store ramen and ice cream instead of hauling snacks back. Changbin helps a woozy Jisung to bed as soon as the others are settled in their beds. Jisung catches Changbin's hand just before he tucks Jisung in.

"You can't go back though," he says sleepily. "Her pain shouldn’t cause you pain. It's not fair."

"I know," Changbin says. "I'm not going back to the company. Noona has to realize for herself that family and business are two different things. I know she loves me. She has given me her own brand of kindness time and time again. I'll wait for her to understand, as long as it takes."

"Okay," Jisung says, letting him go. He's snoring not three minutes later.

Changbin brushes Jisung's bangs out of his face. He won't go back now that he knows better, but it had taken a very special intruder in his life to help him make that decision.

 

\---XXXX---

 

Changbin waits until they're back in Jisung's apartment before he blurts out, "Is this okay?"

Jisung turns to look at him, blinking. "Is what okay?"

"This," Changbin says. "This...fake dating scandal we've perpetuated. I got dropped by my family; are you going to be alright?"

Jisung opens his mouth, but Changbin cuts him off again, hands clenched around the handle of his suitcase. "Because now that I have my own bank account and inheritance I can buy my own place. I don't need to mooch off you if it will cause trouble. I just don't want you to get hurt because of something that isn't even real."

Jisung waits him out. When Changbin has confessed ever possible act of treachery he could've committed against Jisung, Jisung speaks.

"Whose idea was it to go on a fake date?" he asks.

Changbin's mouth moves but nothing comes out. Jisung waits. Finally, "It was your idea, but I'm older, I should know better—"

"Is that what Minhee-ssi told you?" Jisung asks.

Changbin's jaw clicks shut.

Jisung steps closer to him. "Let me ask you something, hyung."

"Yes?"

"Do you want to stay here?"

Changbin is taken aback. He's not sure how to answer. "I shouldn't—"

"Uh-uh," Jisung says, stepping closer again. "That's not what I asked you."

"Sungie," Changbin says. "Be reasonable."

Jisung steps close enough for their noses to brush. "No. I won't."

"Sungie," Changbin pleads. "I can't—"

"Do you want to stay here?" Jisung asks.

Changbin looks up at him. "Yes," he breathes. "For as long as you'll have me."

Jisung reaches out to feather his fingertips across Changbin's cheek. Changbin is helpless; he turns his face into Jisung's palm and kisses it softly.

"Ah," Jisung sighs. "You're so gentle with me, hyung."

"I'm 'hyung' now, am I?" Changbin asks, smiling a little. But the smile slides from his face. "This could ruin you, Sungie."

"Nah," Jisung says. "My family is one of the top five richest in the country. I’ll be fine. But even if that weren’t the case, what’s my alternative?”

Changbin's heart beats in his throat.

"Not having this?" Jisung says softly. "I know you're in the business of not doing what you really want to do, hyung, but—" Jisung takes his hands. "But I'm not."

"Then what is it you want?" Changbin asks.

Jisung smiles. "To mess around. To not get married off to someone I don't know. To make a lot of friends and a lot of great memories with those friends. To take over ONE when I'm good and ready for it." He swallows. "You."

"Oh," Changbin says in a tiny voice. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Whatever you want," Changbin says. "Whatever I want. As long as we're doing it together."

"You know," Jisung says, smiling wider. "That sounds a lot like a euphemism, hyung."

"Not until we get unpacked it isn't," Changbin says. Jisung bursts out laughing.

After they've unpacked, after catching up with the new drama Changbin picked up, and after a glass of wine each, Jisung starts to look at Changbin. Changbin thinks it's the way he's looked at him from that night, but unabashed this time. Running his eyes over Changbin's whole body, resting on things he especially likes: Changbin's hands, his lips, his chin. Changbin wants to make a joke, but he also wants to kiss Jisung really, really badly.

He turns on his side and catches Jisung's chin, pulls him into a kiss. Jisung rolls against him, warm and clean from his shower a couple hours earlier. Just touching Jisung makes Changbin so happy he can't find the words for it. Just having Jisung within arm’s reach, or slotted against his body. Jisung kisses him as slowly as he did the first time, tongue sour with wine and lips dyed red with it.

Changbin can't hold back his smile as he kisses Jisung and so Jisung thinks he's laughing at him, pulling back and huffing, "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Changbin says, covering his mouth, even though his smile crinkles his nose and reaches his eyes.

"Yeah, right," Jisung says, pouting.

"No, really," Changbin says. "I just...don't think I've ever loved anyone or anything this much ever in my life."

Jisung flushes down to the pretty dips of his clavicles and almost scuttles off the bed because Changbin is 'being too embarrassing,' but Changbin catches his arm and pulls him back against his chest.

"You're horrible," Jisung mutters.

"You asked," Changbin says.

Jisung pushes Changbin onto his back and climbs on top of him, sitting on the tops of his thighs, still looking flustered and pouty. "Ugh," Jisung grumbles after eyeing Changbin for a moment. "How can you be so sexy and yet so embarrassing?"

Changbin grins. "You think I'm sexy?"

"Shut _up_ ," Jisung says, punching him none too lightly in the shoulder. "I've never waited this long to fuck someone I took a liking to." He sucks in a breath. "But I don't think I've ever liked anyone as much as I like you."

Changbin rubs his hands up and down Jisung's thighs, smiling softly.

"Stop that," Jisung says, smacking his hands. "I'm getting hard."

"Oh, how terrible," Changbin says, smile sharpening into a grin again.

"Would've never taken you for a horndog," Jisung huffs.

"I'm not," Changbin says. "But you are unfortunately very hot, especially when you're sitting on top of me like that. I can't help it."

"I don't think there's anything unfortunate about that," Jisung says, rolling his hips against Changbin's. Changbin sucks in a ragged breath, and then they stop talking.

Jisung's done this position before, he knows everything he has to do before they can get past grinding. Changbin doesn't know anything and has never done anything like this before with anyone. But somehow, it's Changbin's hands opening the bottle of lube when Jisung's shake too hard to do it himself. He catches his breath pressing his forehead to Changbin's while Changbin soothes him.

"Sungie," he murmurs. "Baby. We don't have to—"

"No," Jisung says quietly. "I want you so bad."

Changbin's dick throbs at that and Jisung, pressed flush against him, laughs a little. "I just," he says. "I want it to be perfect. And if not perfect, then really, really good."

"Hey," Changbin says. "I've never done this before. I promise, as long as it's really, really good for you, it'll blow my mind."

It _is_ mind-blowing.

It blows Changbin's mind when Jisung closes his eyes to rock back on his own fingers. And when Jisung pulls Changbin's pants down. And when he first sinks down onto him. And when he starts to move. And when they both come.

"So basically all of it," Jisung says afterwards, rolling his eyes. "You dirty virgin."

"Hmm," Changbin says. "Not anymore."

Jisung smacks him, and he laughs.

"You look so beautiful on top of me," Changbin says.

"Ugh, here we go again with the sap."

"Dripping with sweat and your mouth hanging open. Gripping my sides for dear life. Your spun—"

"Shut up," Jisung says, covering his mouth frantically. "Shut up, shut up, shut up. God. You're the worst."

"I love you," Changbin says, pulling Jisung's hands away.

"Uh-huh," Jisung says. "Typical afterglow talk."

"I think I loved you from the moment you made that god-awful proposal to me," Changbin says. "I was so amazed that something ridiculous could happen to me. And you were so handsome and bright."

Jisung plays with Changbin's fingers. "I think," he says.

Changbin waits.

"I think I didn't know I loved you until after," Jisung says. "Maybe when I opened the door hungover as fuck and you were standing there at eight in the morning looking as flawless as you had at that restaurant. I wanted to invite you in just to see if the universe would implode from someone as smooth as you stepping into a place owned by a mess like me."

"Mm," Changbin hums, smiling.

"But I think I knew for sure when I got up to kiss you," Jisung says, still toying with Changbin's fingers. "I was screaming in the back of my head, like, 'What the fuck are you doing?' and 'Holy shit go sit back down!' but I still kissed you. And I think doing that made me realize I didn't want to kiss you again until things were okay. I wanted you to be okay."

"You saved me," Changbin murmurs. "Without you, I would be fumbling around a Korean restaurant in Sydney."

"What?" Jisung says, turning on his side. "Really?"

"Yup," Changbin says. "Plan B was flee the country, seriously."

"I like this plan much better," Jisung says.

"Yeah," Changbin says. "So do I."

 

\---XXXX---

 

Five years later, Changbin gets a call.

"Shut up!" he hollers at Jisung and Hyunjin, squealing on the bed, in the middle of a tickle fight. "It's important!"

Changbin answers the phone as Hyunjin says to Jisung, "But everyone important is already here?"

"Hi, noona," Changbin says, swallowing. "How have you been?"

There's a moment of silence, and then, " _I got your invitation_."

"Yeah?" Changbin says. "I'm glad it reached you. We were afraid it got lost in the mail."

Another moment of silence. " _It didn't_ ," Minhee says, and then her words come tumbling out together. " _God, no, it came two months ago, Bin-ah, I just—I just didn't know what to say, or if you even wanted me to respond, especially since—" She takes a shaky breath. "Especially since I didn't invite you to mine, so I thought maybe you were doing it just to be cruel, so—_ "

"Noona," Changbin says gently. "Would I ever do something like that to you?"

" _No_ ," she sniffles. " _It's something I would do to you_."

Changbin waits.

" _I'm sorry_ ," she says softly. " _For—for a lot of things_."

"I know," Changbin says. "I'm sorry, too. We can talk about it someday soon, okay? Over brunch?"

" _God_ ," Minhee says. " _Please, no. I fucking hate brunch_."

Changbin laughs so loudly he has to hold the phone away from his face. When he puts it back to his ear, he can hear her laughing a little too. He smiles. "I wish you could be here for the big day, noona."

" _I, um_ ," Minhee says. " _Me and my husband are in Busan, actually_."

Changbin's brows shoot up. "You are?"

" _Yes_ ," she says. " _He convinced me to come. He told me it would be much worse to never even try than to come here and be turned away_."

"That's—that's awesome!" Changbin says. "That's really great, noona. Do you have the address to where the ceremony is being held? If not, I'm sure Jeonginie has someone he can put in touch with you—"

" _I've got it_ ," Minhee says. " _I'll be there_."

"I'm so glad you could make it," Changbin says, eyes starting to burn a little.

" _Me too_ ," Minhee says. " _Thank you for having me_."

Changbin sniffs once, hard.

" _And_ — _and Bin-ah?_ " Minhee says.

"Yes, noona?"

" _I'm so proud of you_ ," she says. " _I'll see you soon_."

Changbin puts the phone down. Jisung is at his side in an instant, smiling hopefully. "Well?" he asks.

Changbin nods, a tear sliding down his cheek.

"Yes!" Jisung says, jumping into the air and punching his fist. "Yes!"

"Quit jumping around, for God's sake," Minho scolds him. "You'll put a tear in the ass crack of your suit and then your underwear will be all anyone talks about when they look at your wedding photos." He rolls his eyes. "Now get over here so I can fix your makeup. I don't know what the hell your mother was thinking, hiring those stylists."

"What," Jisung says amiably, trotting over to Minho, "you've never fixed any last minute tear before a show?"

"Not on my own costume," Minho says. "Professionals don't get rips.”

"Or they cover it up with a feather boa!" Chris calls.

"Christopher Bang, I will end your shit as soon as I'm done saving the grooms."

"Yeah," Jisung says with a blissful sigh. "This is going to be the best wedding ever."

Across the room from his bickering friends, Jisung makes eye contact with his fiancé. Changbin wipes at his eyes. He has plenty of time to cry later. Once he's been wed. Once he hugs Minhee. Once they talk everything over. And knowing Jisung, every time it's his turn to pick the movie.

That’s okay. He’s never faced a trial like Han Jisung before, but he has no reason to fear. It’s a trial he’s happy to face, together, for as long as he lives.

 

**Author's Note:**

> 2019 year of changbin
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/whiskerprince) me if you want to occasionally watch a grown ass human go apeshit over seo changbin


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